Faults in Human Nature
by MaddieIsWhatIAm
Summary: There are two sides to every man- one good and one bad. When the good in our nature fails us, we search for the darker part that will make feel like more of a person than we've ever been- even if it kills us. AU.


**A/N: Hey y'all. I know that I should be working on the Haze, but I decided to upload my fancy little English paper up for you all to read. I actually got asked if the part I read out loud was part of a book and I couldn't have been more flattered, so I wanted to share this with you all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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><p>A bell rings sharply and every door in the building flew open. Pubescent teens streamed quickly out the newly opened doors. The school began to empty as the children hastened to leave the prison they've been cooped up inside all day.<p>

Only one person remained behind after the slew of bodies had deserted the school. The boy glanced up at a clock as he gathered his things. He stuffed a final novel in his bag before placing the straps over his shoulders. He sighed softly as he exited the school room, and then out the burgundy double doors. One foot in front of the other, the teen trudged down the sidewalk.

Suddenly, he heard a tussle. He glanced in the direction of the sound, raising his eyebrows. Usually, the boy would ignore the sound and would keep walking, but something kept him there.

A singular shout of "Stop struggling!" and multiple whimpers followed. The boy sprinted back to the sound as quickly as he could.

When he got to the site of the noise, the scene he held before his eyes was horrible. Three huge football players and that one boy from his chemistry class were all together, but not by amiable means.

One of the jocks was holding the boy so he couldn't get away, another of the jocks was punching the chemistry boy in any available spot, and the other was ripping up the contents of the unfortunate boy's backpack.

"Hey!" The teen hesitated as soon as the word escaped his lips. The jocks stopped for a brief second and glanced around. Seemingly dumbfounded, the body builders shook it off and looked back at the poor boy. All three pairs of lips curled into a smile as the brunet flailed in an attempt to loosen the tight grip holding him in place.

"Stop that!" the boy mustered up enough courage to yell. Now, the jocks were certain they heard him this time.

"You and what army?" one chuckled.

"I don't need an army. My dad is the chief of police. Give me one good reason I shouldn't give him a call right now and tell him some goons were harassing my friend," the boy said with a convincing show of bravado.

The three large boys just stood around and gaped at the smaller but commanding boy.

"No comment? Yeah, that's what I thought. Leave now, or I will not hesitate to call dear old dad."

The jocks swallowed in unison. "Uh," the leader of the group turned to the blond, "if I ever catch you here alone, you're dead." The group dropped the boy and hurried off instantly.

"Are you okay?" The teen glanced down and offered his hand to the boy sprawled on the ground. The other pushed it away and nodded as the blond stared at him. "Oh, I don't think I introduced myself. My name's Kendall."

"I know. We have Chemistry together. But I'm Logan, since you didn't know," introduced the brunet as he stood up slowly.

"I forgot. Sorry. Want to know a secret? I was totally lying. My dad is an electrician. He's scared of cops. They freak him out. He swears they're watching him," Kendall revealed, trying to put Logan at ease. "Actually, that was a lie too. I'm a pathological liar. Just kidding! Or am I?"

Logan chuckled a little. "Want to come over sometime?"

Kendall looked at him oddly. "Sure. Uh, why not?" he questioned. "Wait, you're not one of those mass murderers, are you?"

"No, but I might be lying like you," the brunet teased as he brushed the dirt off of his clothes.

"All kidding aside, I think we should get your wounds tended to."

"Yeah," he agreed. He took a step and stumbled, falling on to one knee. Logan cringed when the scrapes on his knee gritted against the ground as he struggled back to standing.

"Let's just go now. Where's your house?" Kendall asked as he lifted Logan's arm around his shoulders.

"You know that big house on the edge of town?" Logan questioned, wincing as pressure was put on the leg he hurt.

"Well, yeah. Everyone knows that house. You'd have to be dumb not to!"

"That's mine. Now let's start walking because I am in pain, and if I do not get home soon, I will scream," Logan declared in a rather hostile manner.

The two boys slowly walked along the sidewalk: Logan furled his brow in pain at each step. Kendall kept quiet in case he was in the presence of a mass murderer. Or, at least an Kendall murderer.

They soon arrived at the sprawling building that Logan called home. It was awfully quiet- not a sound was made as they entered the front door, making Kendall feel a tad uneasy. He shifted from foot to foot, glancing around the darkened living room. He dropped Logan's arm from around his shoulders.

Kendall uncomfortably began, "Well, uh, as much as I'd hate to save your life and dash, I have to go." He tried walking backwards the few steps he entered in, his hand scrambling for the door knob behind him.

"Alright. See you tomorrow," Logan replied nonchalantly.

The blond tilted his head. "Er…okay," was the last thing Kendall muttered before leaving.

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><p>A glossy burgundy locker door was slammed shut in a pale face and a thin hand withdrew from the door,<p>

"Hey, bro. How goes it?" Kendall asked, grinning.

"Hello," Logan said, before pulling his mouth up in a smile. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing much. Just hating my life, as always," Kendall explained, grin never dropping his always happy face.

Logan let out an abrupt laugh. "Nobody hates their life more than I do. Trust me."

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm the Queen of the Scots." He chuckled before Logan closed his locker. "How you got a locker by the girls' dressing room escapes me."

Logan's mouth quirked upwards in a crooked smile. "It pays to spend your school year working in the office. Let's just say that I am a master at hacking the system. Before the school year began, this locker belonged to one Camille Roberts. I don't know who that is, but I would just like to thank her immensely."

"I'm sure you're a total gentleman when you scope out those choice ladies that walk by every day."

"We are not speaking about my hobbies. We're talking about how I hate life. Get with the program."

"Now aren't you a special snowflake?" Kendall joked.

"Special? Yes. Snowflake? No. Not one bit," Logan said petulantly. "I'm just surviving my life, one day at a time."

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><p>A lone figure strode down a dark street and stole into a seemingly abyss-like alleyway. After a few minutes, the figure emerged holding a small bottle in the palm of his hand.<p>

The person hastened home. As soon as he reached his house, he bolted upstairs and locked his bedroom door, the old floors creaking underfoot. He threw his coat down on his bed and strode to his bathroom, where he locked a second door.

The figure stood in front of a mirror, gauging his own capacity to break an unspoken rule. Seeing no sign in his eyes except for a nervous excitement, he uncapped his newly procured bottle and dumped a handful of its precious contents into his waiting palm.

Once again, he looked at his reflection, daring himself to stop what he knew he was going to do, almost in defiance.

He tipped his head back, brought his palm to his open lips, let the small, perfectly white ovals roll into the waiting cavern of his mouth, and swallowed.

Time was spent waiting. Just waiting. Sitting and waiting. Waiting for the supposed heaven and relief that the bottle was supposed to bring.

Suddenly, the figure ceased all movement and let out a cry of pain. No one was around to hear the pained screams. Minutes later, the pain ceased and a new pair of gleaming, devious eyes connected with their mirror. A crooked grin pulled at the corners of these new orbs, different in every way but color from the pair that gazed into the mirror moments before.

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><p>Kendall arrived home, his breathing haphazard and quick. He slammed the door behind him, closing his eyes and swallowing in air. Beads of sweat dripped down his pale face. He stumbled towards his desk. Unable to speak, he began to write.<p>

_3/27/2010_

_My hands are shaking. I saw something while I was walking over to Logan's house. It was tall and revolting. Its face held so much rage. That's all I saw. The person was…it was beating up a child. I told it to stop, but it just kept hurting him. I heard him screaming. I heard __**it **__laughing. I called the police, but they thought I was lying._

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><p>Over the next few days, Kendall wasn't at school, nor was he answering calls or texts. Logan became worrisome and decided to visit his friend at his home. Collecting his homework like any dutiful friend would, the blond headed to visit his friend. As he trudged on, a newspaper flitted by. He glanced over at the paper and folded it to fix his view. His eyes widened and Kendall's homework papers he was holding fell from his now slackened grip.<p>

"That's me…" escaped a now trembling pair of lips. He closed his eyes and curled his right hand into a fist. "I…I'm a monster." Logan let out a slow breath and unfurled his hand, his shoulders sagging as if he was Atlas and the weight of the world rested upon him.

He turned and left to go home; the forgotten papers blowing in the wind.

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><p>Over the next few weeks, Kendall and Logan ceased contact. Soon, their friendship disappeared until the day when everything went wrong.<p>

Both boys had stayed after school to get a head start on a history project. They stationed themselves on opposite sides of the classroom because they still weren't talking.

Kendall and Logan sat down and started working in a stony, tense silence until their teacher entered the room. "Oh, you people are here. I wasn't expecting you!"

They only nodded. The elderly woman frowned and walked over to her desk. The looming silence fell hard on Kendall, so he decided to fill the void. "Hey."

Logan didn't even glance upwards. He was still concentrated on abolishing their friendship.

Kendall frowned before gathering his things and moving to the seat next to his old friend. "What's up?" No reaction. Kendall tried again. "How you doing?" Still no response. He tried this for the next fifteen minutes before eventually giving up. "Hey, Mrs. C, can I use the bathroom?"

His teacher looked up from the pile of papers she was grading. "Sure, go right on ahead."

Kendall got up to go with a clatter and shut the door with a loud bang in his wake.

The elderly teacher looked up from her paper stack. "You know, Logan, you can tell me if you're having problems. I know that you and Kendall were best friends. What happened?"

Logan kept his eyes downcast and mumbled, "Just don't worry about it, okay? Drop it." But she didn't.

She pressed on, saying, "You two always caused problems and laughed and now you won't look at him. Would you care to tell me what happened?"

"No, really, I'm good," Logan mumbled back.

"I don't think it's healthy for you to keep this bottled up inside. Telling an adult can really help."

Logan slammed his palms down on the table and glared at her with a fire in his eyes.

"I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Drop. It," he growled, teeth bared.

She blinked, unable to muster a response. She nodded and went back to grading the papers. Logan sat back down and leaned down to pull at his shoelaces. When the dirty white laces finally came out from the grommets in his shoes, he knotted them together in a secure hold. He got up from his desk silently and strode behind his teacher without her noticing.

Once there, he took his craftily knotted laces and quickly wound them around his teacher's neck. He pulled each end with all of his might and watched as she grappled at her neck as her face turned a deep shade of puce. His cold, unfeeling eyes looked on without pity but with a steely hardness, mouth drawn in a tight line as his teacher thrashed around. The shoelace yarn grated against her skin and left burn marks as she struggled for life against her quiet, well learned pupil. Knowing that all attempts to escape were now futile, she used any last remnants of oxygen in her lungs to ask one last inquiry of her faithful student. "Why?" With the exhalation of this word, her body went slack as the hand of death grasped her in his clutches.

Logan backed away quickly, hands fumbling to push his papers into his backpack and slinging it onto his back, hastening to leave the room.

Minutes later, Kendall walked back into the room. The first thing he noticed was his fallen teacher. Kendall rushed to her side and felt for a pulse that wasn't there amidst the burns on her neck. He whipped out a cell phone and dialed three buttons. The dial tone seemed to ring loudly and pierce his ear drums in his hyper anxious state. The receiving line answered with a high soprano female voice, asking the one question he needed to answer himself at this moment. "Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

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><p>For the next few months, Logan laid low. Kendall kept his distance from his friend whom he suspected of murder. What once was a dear friendship had fallen by the wayside in the months that followed the history disaster.<p>

Kendall still wanted to protect his former friend. When the police arrived that fateful day, he lied to them. He's not sure why. Maybe he really was a pathological liar. Whatever the reason, his friend was safe, and that's all he could ask for.

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><p>One day, Kendall received a letter. He peered down at it, opening it slowly. His eyes widened as he read the hastily penned contents.<p>

_Kendall, I know that we haven't talked in a really long time, but I needed someone to know what was happening to me, and you're the only one I trust. This…this is __**not **__what you think it is. It's not just another note written by another person to another one of his friends. It's __**actually **__full of meaning and actually something real._

_I hope you read this after everything's done and I'm long gone, because I don't want everyone to suffer when the pain is still fresh. I want your mind clear and away from the mess I've caused._

_This note is not what you'd expect- not from me. I'm going to put this in terms it'll be simple for you to understand. I did it because I felt I had to. I guess I should explain what happened._

_It all started one night. I went out, um, "market shopping." In other words, I combed the streets looking for any available drugs. Now, before you discredit me and label me as a drug addict, I want you to know that it was a one-time deal. I blew about $150 dollars on this designer drug that was supposed to take away all pain and leave you in a blissed out state. I'm not sure what it's called and I don't think I ever want to know. I do know that it did not deliver on its promises. What I experienced that night was pain. Excruciating pain of the worst kind. It was enough to make me want to end my life right then and there. I didn't, though. What sprung up was not me. It was in my body and controlled my mind, but I wasn't acting consciously. Eventually, the drug started working on its own, controlling me without being administered._

_That night, I'm almost positive that I was the person who beat up little Tyler, that red head who lives down the road from me. I didn't mean to, honestly. But I knew, after that night was over and done, I knew that more nefarious things were to come, and come they did._

_As you've probably known for some time now, I did, in fact, kill Mrs. Collins. It's not like I wanted to. I just got so angry, and it's like I was taken over. She was really a nice lady, but she wanted to know too much. Obviously, I was not accepting of her intrusions into my personal life. I was going through a horridly dark time, what with the drug taking me over against my will. It was almost like being trapped inside your own mind- you're stuck, and you know what's going on, but you can't stop what's happening._

_I can't fully tell you the horrors I experienced, but I would like to apologize for neglecting to be a faithful kind of friend to you, when you've been nothing but faithful to me. Friendship is something I haven't ever been the best at, and there's no time for me to try again. There's just no need for it._

_But the thing is, you probably won't ever know me, and you sure as hell won't know me now._

_Your never to be found again friend,_

_Logan._

Kendall threw the paper down, ignoring the last few words of the fateful letter as he sprinted out the door. He ran as fast as he could down the street, reaching the door of Logan's house, where he busted the door down. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly reached the landing, where he took two large steps down the hall and burst through the door of his friend.

The sight before his eyes was one he never wanted to repeat. No one wants to see the last moments of their best friend as he closes his eyes and makes the one shot that ends his life for good.

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><p><strong>AN: So, uh, what do y'all think? I would love all comments and criticisms. I also take requests if anyone would like. So, review please!**


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